


Examined

by FestiveFerret



Series: Held [47]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Commands and Orders, Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 13:53:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12654852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FestiveFerret/pseuds/FestiveFerret
Summary: It was a command, but it lacked any bite or edge. Tony clearly wasn’t thinking about sex, or even about Steve, really. It could have been anyone standing there. But Steve was thinking about Tony, and it took all his strength not to shuffle where he stood, tingling heat working its way up his spine.





	Examined

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sabrecmc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrecmc/gifts).



> For sabre, not just because she prompted this kink (a million years ago :P) but also for being so kind in reccing Held and sending so much love our way. Thank you! <3

“Hey, darling, can you give me a hand for a second?”

Steve looked up from his tablet in surprise. He was sure Tony had forgotten he was there, if he’d even noticed him coming down in the first place. Tony had been completely absorbed in his work for several hours now, moving repeatedly from his chair in front of a bank of screens, to an area of the workshop he’d cleared, and back again. Recognizing that Tony was in the zone, but still wanting to be near him, Steve had quietly tucked himself onto the couch with his own work. To be fair, it was entirely possible that Tony _didn’t_ actually know Steve was here, and was asking on the off chance he was. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done something like that.

“Of course.”

Tony didn’t reply, his eyes glued to a computer screen where he was rapidly scrolling through endless lines of code, the cap of a pen lodged between his teeth. Steve rose and crossed the room to stand by Tony’s chair.

It was a solid two minutes before Tony said, “Huh?” and turned towards him.

“You asked for my help,” Steve reminded him, grinning now. Tony in engineering mode should have been annoying but was actually adorable. The whole rest of the world disappeared and his entire focus was on his work. Steve also knew what it was like to have that laser-focus entirely on him and the back of his neck heated at the thought.

“Oh yeah.” Tony typed vigorously for a moment. “Could you stand…” he waved his hand towards the area where he’d been constructing something.

“Tony.”

“Mmm.”

“I need a little more than that.”

Tony finally hit the end of the code and something in him snapped back to the here and now. He turned, met Steve’s eyes, and smiled. “Hey you. I need you to help me with something.”

Steve laughed. “Okay.”

“You’re the best.” Even the casual praise set Steve’s mind humming with pleasure. Tony stood and led Steve over to his project. “Okay. Remember how I was working on those bio scanners for the suit - improving them beyond basic ‘yes I’m alive’ stats? Well, the hard part isn’t the actual scanners, that’s just miniaturization. It’s coding the results. I’ve been working on it, but I need to do some live tests so I need you to stand right here - “ Tony maneuvered Steve in the middle of a circle surrounded by what appeared to be tall stacks of thin speakers “ - and don’t move until I tell you to.”

It was a command, but it lacked any bite or edge. Tony clearly wasn’t thinking about sex, or even about Steve, really. It could have been anyone standing there. But Steve was thinking about Tony, and it took all his strength not to shuffle where he stood, tingling heat working its way up his spine.

“Okay, good.” Tony sat back down at his desk and started typing. Steve stood, his gaze fixed on Tony’s face, watching his dark eyes dart back and forth across the screen. Tony started muttering, “O2 - 97. Respiration rate is - uh - seven. Hmm... pulse - three million beats per minute, that can’t be right….” Tony looked over towards the scanners then raked his gaze down Steve’s body. It was the opposite of heated; his eyes were cool, clinical, detached, but Steve ignited under them. Tony grumbled at the screens for a moment, called a few things out to JARVIS, then pushed his chair back. He crossed the room, poked one of the speaker-things then stood beside Steve. “Baseline the old-fashioned way, I guess.” He took Steve’s wrist between his thumb and two fingers and dropped his eyes to his watch, counting.

Tony was barely touching him, wasn’t thinking about him. Steve could see the gears ticking inside his brain; he was entirely absorbed with diagnosing the problems with his code. But Steve was burning up, frantic, every nerve in his body tuned to the two spots on his wrist where he was connected to Tony. He could feel the blood pumping through his veins, tapping against Tony’s fingertips with every throb. He swallowed hard when Tony muttered “98 bpm,” to himself and dropped his wrist.

After rummaging in a bin by the desk for a moment, Tony came up with a blood pressure cuff which he slid up Steve’s arm, tightening it around his bicep. Tony held the controller for the cuff in one hand and leaned back to type on his keyboard with the other, stretched across the room. He pushed the button to inflate the cuff, eyes flicking back and forth between the controller screen, and the computer screen, muttering to himself all the while.

The cuff expanded with a low hum, squeezing Steve’s arm and sending his blood pressure skyrocketing as it attempted to fill his cock and keep him alive at the same time. The ever-increasing pressure from the cuff reminded Steve of Tony’s reinforced bonds, or the way his hands tightened around Steve’s biceps while he held him face down on the bed. It was a heady sensation, dizzying, and Steve worried for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to keep standing.

“I think it’s the looping calibration getting stuck again,” Tony said to no one, looking out blankly at the mess of scanners, then placed a flat palm over Steve’s chest. Steve stared at it. They were both silent for a moment, then Tony slowly turned his head until his eyes fixed on Steve. “You’re not breathing.”

Steve sucked in a sharp breath and the pain he hadn’t noticed building in his lungs released. Tony cocked an eyebrow, but something beeped on his computer, and he dropped his hand and hustled over to it. Steve took the time to rediscover oxygen and try to figure out what on earth was going on. He was just a body to Tony right now, a mannequin whose only job was to breathe and blink on his machines, and it was giving him a thrill, as if he was on display, stood still and dissected, broken down into his component parts. A wrist, a pulse, two lungs which may or may not be functioning properly, nothing more.

Tony’s eyes kept flicking from the screens to Steve with such a clinical, singular focus that he had to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from begging - begging for what, he didn’t know. He didn’t feel like Steve, he felt like one of Tony’s projects, a bot built for help around the workshop or maybe for something else... He imagined Tony calling him over while he worked, fucking his mouth with no regard for Steve’s arousal, dismissing him when he was done. It was humiliating and exhilarating at the same time.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked, startling Steve out of his filthy fantasy. He struggled to come up with a response, and when he didn’t answer, Tony started speaking again, “Your respiration just went up to fourteen and your pulse is at 105. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” His voice was even, low, calm, without the heat he usually poured into his commands, and Steve felt off-kilter and unsteady, like it wasn’t really Tony asking him, it was some stranger.

“I - um,” he stuttered, and usually Tony would push him through his hesitation, but his eyes stayed fixed on his screen.

“Take off your pants,” Tony told him, voice still bland and disinterested.

Steve hung for a moment, caught in aroused confusion, then dropped his hands to his zipper and stripped his pants off. Tony looked at him, looked at the screen, looked at him, frowned, then sighed. He got up, and Steve thought he was coming over to touch him again, but he merely adjusted one of the scanners and sat down again.

“Don’t tell me you can’t register heat changes,” Tony told the screen. “I can _see_ you registering heat changes. Take off the rest of your clothes.”

It was so abrupt, Steve didn’t realize at first that the order was meant for him. When it clicked in, he scrambled to shed the rest of his clothes and tossed them aside. He stood, bare naked, his cock half hard from his dirty thought, hands at his sides, cheeks on fire. Tony’s eyes brushed over him again, with no leer, no smirk, no pause on his growing erection, and Steve couldn’t hold back the little squeak of overwhelmed desperation that slipped through his lips.

“Put your hand on your cock. I need to see your readings change.”

Steve was sure the command alone had sent his heartrate into orbit, he was nowhere near breathing properly, and the fact that every ounce of blood in his body was currently fighting for its chance to flood to his dick meant his body temperature must be going wild. As Tony stared at the output, Steve wondered if his eyes were following the heat that was growing in his groin, if Tony could see his arousal increasing through the lens of science. Steve dropped his hand to his cock and started to stroke with a soft sigh.

For a long stretch, all he could hear was Tony’s fingers clacking on the keyboard and the man’s occasional sighs and _humphs_ when it wasn’t going right. “Speed up,” Tony said, finally breaking the silence, and Steve moved his hand faster, moaning at the sensation. Electric pleasure sparked under his skin, crackling every time Tony’s detached, scientific gaze washed over him.

“Every time you twist your palm over the head of your cock, your pulse increases by three beats per minute,” Tony announced. Steve twisted his palm, and his legs started to shake. “Your O2 is dropping, take a deep breath.” Steve sucked air in through his teeth and the prickling in his lungs receded. “That’s good, perfect,” Tony said, and he was speaking to the program, but Steve felt it settle hot in his chest and vibrate up his neck to his cheeks. “You can come.”

Steve came almost instantly at Tony’s words. His orgasm burst low in his gut like a firework, sparks ricocheting their way down his legs and up his spine. He stumbled and fought to keep upright in the circle of scanners. He wondered if Tony saw him come on his screens, the same way he felt it, radiating pleasure, radiating heat. The rush of his heart, the harsh catch of his lungs. He groaned, wobbled, and then strong arms were catching him, holding him upright. Tony’s clothes brushed against his hypersensitive, bare skin, and he shivered.

He brought his eyes up to find the face of the man that held him and it was Tony again, all Tony, all focused on Steve. “You were so good,” Tony cooed, brushing Steve’s hair back with his fingers. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to come visit us on tumbly: [ashes0909](http://ashes0909.tumblr.com) and [FestiveFerret](http://festiveferret.tumblr.com)


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